


eyes on the prize (because patience is a virtue)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Drabble, Friends With Benefits, High School, Implied Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson, No Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, please dont let the tiny bits of louis/zayn throw ya off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s so pretty. Almost too pretty, Zayn said to Louis once after too many drinks. So pretty that it should be illegal for a teenager to look like that and be off-limits. It’s literally a crime that his favourite student is unattainable. Harry Styles existing out of reach in Zayn’s life is an offense, and Zayn is offended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eyes on the prize (because patience is a virtue)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zarrywinkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarrywinkle/gifts).



> I don’t give a fuck about being professional in the workplace.
> 
> Also I’m from Canada so I write things the way it is for me. I know that school, grades and legal age differ in America, UK or anywhere else. Sorry if it causes any confusion!!! Just to clarify, Zayn teaches grade twelve, which is the last year of high school, so students his are seventeen or eighteen. 
> 
> Zayn is in his mid-twenties. Harry is seventeen. Legal age is eighteen here in Canada, so that applies to my fic.  
> Also! My prompt very explicitly said NO SMUT and I did keep to that. But, there are some almost-smut scenes, so here’s a disclaimer: there is some intense smooching, use of the word “grind/grinding” way too often, and way too much blushing and flushing. All in all, no actual hand-to-genital or mouth-to-genital or genital-to-genital action is written. So don’t worry, prompter, I gotchu. 
> 
> If undertones of sort of predator-like vibes bother you, you might not like this fic. There is absolutely no pedophilia or dubious/non-con, or anything similar, but in the end, this is a teacher/student fic where a person in position of power wants the underage boy so, disclaimer: Mr. Malik talks a lot about how much he wants to fuck his seventeen year old student. And Louis is a horrible human being. 
> 
> I’ve already said too much and wasted enough time so thanks so much for reading, thank you to the people who created this exchange for giving me motivation to actually finish something that I’ve written, and thank you to zarrywinkle the prompter. 
> 
> Very special thanks to the helpful betas!!!

He’s so pretty. Almost too pretty, Zayn said to Louis once after too many drinks. So pretty that it should be illegal for a teenager to look like _that_ and be off-limits. It’s literally a crime that his favourite student is unattainable. Harry Styles existing out of reach in Zayn’s life is an offense, and Zayn is offended.

To say that it’s hard for Zayn to resist would be a complete understatement. It’s more like an ongoing struggle really. Painful and sad for him to stop himself from reaching out and tangling his fingers into the boy’s curls or pressing a digit against and past his plush lips.

It fucking sucks that the closest Zayn can get is a desk’s space away and that the most touching he can get away with is a high five or fist bump. It _really_ fucking sucks that Harry is fond of his teacher, but not in the way that matters, and definitely not in the way that Zayn wants. But he takes what he can get, because beggars can’t be choosers. Especially when you’re a middle aged high school teacher who wants to fuck his seventeen year old student raw.

\---

“Good morning Mr. Malik,” Harry says cheerfully, practically skipping through the classroom door and past Zayn.

Zayn grins. He loves the way his name sounds coming out of the kid’s mouth. “Styles. You seem chipper this morning. Any particular reason why?”

Harry sits at his desk, front and center of the class, only a couple of feet away from Zayn’s desk. “Can’t a boy have a smile on his face just because?”

Niall, another of Zayn’s favourite students, sits down beside Harry and snorts. “No, who the fuck dances into English class on a Monday morning like the sun shines out his ass without a reason?”

Zayn stifles a laugh. Niall has quite the mouth, and as much as it amuses Zayn, he has to be somewhat of a responsible teacher. “Niall, really?” 

The kid covers his mouth mockingly. “Oops, sorry. I’ll watch my language, sir.” He does a two finger salute and Harry bursts out laughing.

Zayn rolls his eyes at the pair. “Ugh, children.”

“Heeeey,” Harry frowns and pouts. “We’re not children. We’re young adults.”

Zayn drags his eyes from Harry’s lips. “Not quite,” he mumbles.

He steps away and faces the class that has filled in while he was talking to the boys. “Good morning class, happy Monday.”

“What’s so happy about Monday?” a loud voice calls from the back.

“Not sure, ask Harry though,” Zayn says with a smirk. The class laughs, even though the majority of them don’t even get the joke. Zayn knows it’s mainly because his students love him, and the fact that quite a few fancy him a bit more than they should do.

“Aw, stop picking on Styles,” Eleanor, one of the pretty and popular girls in his class, croons from the back of the room. She throws a flirty smile in Zayn’s direction and leans forward on her desk. “You’re so mean, Mr. Malik.”

Zayn smiles back politely and turns to pout in Harry’s direction. “But he makes it so easy.”

“I don’t appreciate the abuse, Mr. Malik,” Harry quips, sticking his tongue out at Zayn.

Zayn is momentarily frozen at the sight of Harry, staring directly into Zayn’s eyes, tongue hanging out between his lips, mouth pulled into a smirk.

Pull it the fuck together, Zayn scolds himself, he’s just a child. Childish child. He clears his throat and strains to pull his eyes away from Harry.

“Well, I don’t appreciate this banter in my classroom. All of you, shut up. I have a class to teach,” Zayn jokingly glares at his class.

They erupt into giggles, but pull out their books anyway.

Yeah, teaching a class with Harry Styles is slight difficulty for Zayn.

\---

It was almost midnight and Zayn was still sitting at his desk at home trying to finish marking his senior English class’ essays. He was getting more reckless with his critiquing and grading with each paper as the minutes ticked by.

“This isn’t even a fucking thesis,” Zayn sighs, scrawling his words in angry red ink over the student’s paper.

“Did you write that on a kid’s essay? Please tell me that you actually wrote those exact words. That is fucking gold,” Louis laughs from his lounging position on Zayn’s bed.

“No, you twat. Of course I didn’t write ‘fucking’ on a student’s paper. Unlike you, I’m actually an appropriate, _proper_ teacher,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. Maybe if he rolled them hard enough, his eyeballs would actually detach themselves from his sockets and fall out of his head and then he’ll be exempt from teaching and marking for a good couple months. Not a bad plan, really.

Louis fake gasps. “Zayn, that’s hurtful. I’m an excellent teacher. I put my heart and soul into my work every day. And quite frankly, I’m offended that you think being a drama teacher isn’t _proper._ ” 

He jumps up from the bed and makes his way over to where Zayn’s hunched over his desk. “Also, I think you’re working a bit too hard tonight.”

Louis places his hands on Zayn’s shoulders and gently kneads. “You need to relax. Oh fucking well if you don’t get these back to the kids by tomorrow.”

Zayn sighs for probably the hundredth time this evening. “I promised them,” he says, feebly trying to shrug off Louis’s hands. Louis digs his thumbs into the knots in Zayn’s back, drawing a moan from him.

“Louis, fuck,” Zayn whines, tipping his head back with his eyes closed. He’s putty in Louis’ hands, and Louis knows it. He’s one of the few things that Zayn can’t say no to.

“Zayn, fuck,” Louis giggles mockingly. He moves his hands down Zayn’s chest, under his shirt, pressing gently. His fingers catch one of Zayn’s nipples and he flicks it before rubbing the hardening nub between his fingers.

Zayn lets out a breathless laugh. “Really, Louis?”

“Yeah, come on, Zayn,” Louis says, giving attention to Zayn’s other nipple. “We haven’t fucked in like, weeks?”

“That’s because,” Zayn says, standing up and turning around to face Louis, “last time, we agreed that it was going to be _the last time_.”

Louis laughs and reaches up to wrap his arms around Zayn’s shoulders. “And what did we say the time before that?”

Zayn curls his hands around Louis’ hips and pulls him in. “I don’t remember.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Louis, this is the last time. Seriously. I need to save some stamina and sperm for my star-crossed lover, Harry “Twinky” Styles for when he turns legal age– ’”

“Shut up,” Zayn snarls, pushing Louis onto the bed hard. He holds Louis’ arms above his head, pressing his wrists into the mattress and settles the rest of his weight on Louis’ hips where he’s straddled comfortably. “I did not say that.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, smiling brightly. “But you did say the last time part. Yet here we are. In quite a compromising position considering– ”

“Shut _up_ ,” Zayn mumbles again, and then cuts off whatever ridiculous, endearing thing Louis was about to say with a biting kiss.

Fuck it, Zayn thinks. So what if last time they fucked and the time before that was supposed to be the last time. Zayn’s an irrational guy.

\---

A couple of hours later, Zayn is lying in bed with Louis curled into his side fast asleep. He pats his friend’s hair gently and presses a kiss to his forehead before quietly crawling out of bed.

He’s still a little sweaty and sticky, but ignores it. He needs to get this marking done. He pulls the next paper out of his thankfully shrinking stack of essays and starts reading.

Harry’s paper. Zayn smiles. Finally, he thinks, a quality essay. Zayn’s always impressed with Harry’s writing and actually looks forward to it when he’s neck high in boring, repetitive papers.

This time is different though, as this time as he reads through the essay, he’s confused. It’s bland, the arguments are predictable and simple, and it just lacks all the usual quality that he expects from Harry. Zayn double checks that the C+ paper belongs to Harry and yep, it’s his.

Zayn corrects the paper, with more red ink than he’s ever had to use with Harry and writes _SEE ME!!!_ at the top of the page. This isn’t Harry’s usual work and to be honest, Zayn’s a bit worried. Does he have some problems at home? Girlfriend troubles? Is he not enjoying Zayn’s class this semester?

Zayn shakes his head. He doesn’t think it’s normal for a teacher to be this invested in the well-being of a student.  But then again, Zayn isn’t a typical teacher and Harry definitely isn’t just another student.

\---

“Not very impressed with the essays, kids. I want you take my corrections into considerations for the next time,” Zayn says. “You guys can leave now, couple minutes before the bell. Because I’m just _that_ cool of a teacher.”

His class laughs. “No, you just want to fuck off to Tommo’s class,” Niall calls out, waggling his eyebrows obscenely.

It was a joke among the senior students who’ve had Louis and Zayn, that they had a _bromance,_ as Zayn heard a girl say before. Louis always found it amusing that the students picked up on something between the teachers; Zayn just thought it was strange.  Of course, the two were obviously closer friends than the rest of the staff, but Zayn didn’t know why any students would think anything else. He never knew how to respond professionally when someone cracked a joke, so he mostly resorted to rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

“Language, Niall. And yeah, _Mr. Tomlinson_ is the only one I like in this bloody school,” Zayn jokes. “Now all of you, get out.”

The students shuffle out of the class as Zayn gathers the books and papers from his desk.

“Erm, Mr. Malik? You said you wanted to see me,” Harry says, standing in front of Zayn, looking down at his feet.

Zayn looks up. The class is empty except for the two of them. “Yeah, Harry. I think you know why, don’t you?”

Harry gives him a sheepish smile. “I dunno. My paper was shit?”

Zayn sits on the edge of his desk, facing Harry. “I know you could do better. This isn’t your usual work. Is there something wrong? Any sort of distractions in your life? You could have asked for a bit of an extension if there was something going on at home you needed to tend to.”

Harry bites his lip, looking a bit embarrassed. Zayn tries to focus but he can’t help but think about how pretty he looks with flushed cheeks and red, bitten lips. He imagines being the one to make Harry look like that, all fucked out, hair mussed–

“–nothing really, to be honest, sir. I guess I just don’t understand this particular text,” Harry finishes.

“Sorry,” Zayn says, flustered and inwardly cursing. “What was that?”

Harry smiles a bit too knowingly. “I was just saying that everything’s fine, I just think I need some extra help with this text.”

Zayn nods thoughtfully. He _could_ recommend a high-achieving student as a tutor for Harry, or even someone else from the English department. But Harry is usually is the highest achieving student, and well, Zayn’s the best from his department.

“Are you interested in some after school support, Harry?” Zayn asks.

Harry nods, eyes wide. “Oh, yes, yes. That would be, um, very helpful.”

Zayn smiles. “I’m free after school today, would you like to stop by for a couple hours then?”

“Yes! I mean, yeah, sounds good,” Harry beams. He leans forward and puts a hand on Zayn’s knee. “Thank you, sir,” he says quietly, his voice deep and playful. He pulls back abruptly and skips out of the class, leaving Zayn frozen, mouth ajar.

What the fuck.

Zayn touches his knee where Harry had, and his mind whirs. Did that just happen? Was Zayn imaging the slight squeeze Harry gave his legs before dashing off? Was the flirty _sir_ tacked onto the end of his sentence deliberately said in such a way that it sounded almost dirty?

When Zayn manages to clear his mind and close his mouth, he slides off his desk and gathers his stuff. This fucking Styles kid is going to be the death of him.

\---

Harry is sat at Zayn’s desk when he walks in. He doesn’t notice him at first, so Zayn stands quietly at the door, watching his student spin in his chair and absentmindedly touch papers on Zayn’s desk.

Finally Harry looks up, startled by Zayn’s presence. He blushes and makes a move to get out of Zayn’s chair.

“Oops, erm, sorry. I was just waiting for you,” Harry stammers, hands laced behind his back.

Zayn stares at him, absolutely endeared. “Harry, I’m not going to give you lashes for sitting at my desk. I know how comfy my chair is,” he teases.

He sees Harry relax a bit. “I feel powerful sitting behind that desk. That’s how you feel all the time, big boss of the classroom?” Harry teases back.

Zayn laughs. This kid is something else. “I guess.”

He walks over and takes a seat, motioning for Harry to do the same. Harry grabs a chair and sits on it in front of Zayn’s desk.

“I’m surprised to hear that you are having difficulty with this unit,” Zayn starts. “You are quite an intelligent kid.”

Harry ducks his head. _Shit._

Zayn recovers quickly, “Not saying that this makes you any less smart, of course. It’s just, I never thought I’d see the day that my coursework stumps Harry Styles, genius boy.”

Harry shrugs. “Well, you know. There’s a first for everything, right?”

Zayn looks at Harry, who is staring weirdly at him. “Yeah, definitely.”

\---

They got through half the unit, and Zayn is happy to see that Harry seems to understand everything they’ve looked at.

Zayn looks down at his phone. “Oh, shit. It’s after four now, Harry. I think we should head home–”

“Zayn! My love, how did I know you’d still be in your bloody classroom? Let’s go, I can think of a hundred better things we could be doing with our time, and that’s just with my _mouth_ – oh,” Louis stops, noticing that Zayn isn’t alone in the room he just burst into.

Zayn wants to strangle him. He glances over at Harry, whose eyes are wide and cheeks burning red.

“Hello, Harry. Some after school _help?_ ” Louis asks, throwing an exaggerated wink in his direction.

“Erm, yeah. I mean, we’re just finishing. Finishing our work. We’re done now, so I was just leaving. Right, so, okay,” Harry stutters, grabbing all his stuff hastily, glancing up at the two teachers.

Zayn doesn’t know whether he wants to give him a hug or laugh at how flustered he is.

“Good work today, Harry,” he says, trying to smile as reassuringly as he can. “Let me know when we can work together again?”

“Yup, definitely,” Harry nervously smiling, shuffling towards the door. He looks at Louis for a second and swallows, before mumbling an _excuse me_ and slipping out the door.

Zayn waits, one second, two seconds, three, before Louis bursts out laughing, and Zayn can’t help but join in.

“Oh my _god,_ ” Louis exclaims, coming over to sit in Zayn’s lap. “Was that not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? Proper twink, that one.”

“For fucks sake, mate. _Let’s go do other things, with my mouth,_ ” Zayn mimics Louis. “I can’t believe you said that. And Harry heard!”

Louis laughs again. “It’s not like it’s some big secret, Zayn. The amount of times I’ve heard something about our, what’s the word they say? Bromance? It’s ridiculous.”

Zayn settles his hands on Louis’ hips. “Harry’s so cute when he’s flushed.”

“Mmm,” Louis agrees, slowly grinding down into Zayn’s lap. Zayn digs his fingers into Louis’ hips, his hips slightly jerking from the friction. 

“He’s just–I don’t know. So eager and smart and mouthy,” Zayn presses soft kisses along Louis’ jaw after he speaks.

“I say you just fuck him,” Louis says easily. He grinds harder, and Zayn moans into his neck. “I personally think he’s gagging for it.”

“Nah,” Zayn sighs. “I’m just that cool teacher to him. He’s probably straight too.” He pauses for a second. “Oh my god, not to mention he’s a fucking _kid_ and I’m his fucking _teacher_.”

Louis laughs as Zayn licks up his throat. “When has the law ever stopped you, Zayn Malik?”

“Oh, shit–fuck,” a trembling voice swears from the doorway.

Zayn whips his head around to see Harry standing with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Shit–fuck indeed.

“Shit, I left one of my books, I’m so sorry, fuck,” Harry rambles, frozen in place, eyes locked on Zayn’s hands gripping Louis’ hips.

Zayn blushes from his current compromising position. He makes a move to get up but Louis won’t budge.

Instead, Louis tucked his face into the crook of Zayn’s neck and giggled. “This is fucking gold.”

“I’ll just,” Harry scurries over to the desk, eyes on the floor and grabs the book before bolting out of the room.

“How spectacular,” Zayn groans the second Harry is out of sight. “Second period is going to be just _lovely_ tomorrow.”

“Well,” Louis starts. “At least we now know that he’s not straight.”

Zayn frowns. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Louis scoffs. “He wasn’t just flustered because he walked in on two teachers. That was a turned on kinda flustered.”

“You think?” Zayn asks, his mind whirring. If Harry was into him, Zayn might just be able to pursue this. Keep Harry baited until he turns 18.

Louis grabs Zayn’s face with both hands and pulls him close, until their noses touched. “Oh Zaynie, I _know._ ”

\---

“Good morning class, take your seats and let’s get started,” Zayn says quickly, carefully avoiding eye contact with Harry. Which was pretty hard to do considering the kid sat front and center of the classroom.

Zayn had told himself over and over that what happened yesterday wasn’t a big deal, and who cares if Harry walked in on him and Louis, but he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

He sneaks a quick look at Harry to see if he looks as flustered as Zayn feels.

Nothing. Harry looks completely nonchalant and unbothered. So maybe the whole run in yesterday hadn’t affected him and Louis was just full of shit.

The thought relieved Zayn a little bit but he couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment he felt too.

“Let’s take out our books and review the unit for the next quiz,” Zayn mumbles.

Niall raises his hand and starts speaking before Zayn calls on him. “You alright, sir?”

Zayn frowns and slowly nods. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“You seem a bit off,” Niall shrugs before grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. “Bad case of heartbreak?”

The class giggles and Zayn snorts. Not quite. “Really funny, Niall. To get my heart broken, I’d have to have a heart in the first place.”

His class laughs again and Niall points a teasing finger at Zayn. “You act like such a bad boy, Mr. Malik, but you’re not. We know you have a big, warm, fuzzy heart, _especially_ for Mr. Tomlinson.”

Zayn feels his cheeks flush but he tries to keep his face impassive as his class continues to snicker.

“More than you know it.”

Zayn lowers his gaze towards Harry, who had mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for Zayn to hear.

He looks at Zayn from under his eyelashes, with a blank face, like he hadn’t said anything at all.

Zayn tightens his jaw and looks away, addressing the class. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s get to work.”

\---

At the end of class, as all his students are rushing to the door, Zayn clears his throat. “Harry? Could you stay back for a couple of minutes?”

Harry looks up from where he was standing beside his desk and nods, sitting back down.

When all the students cleared out, Zayn got up and walked around his desk. He leaned against the other side, facing Harry with his arms crossed.

“So,” he starts, but Harry cuts him off quickly.

“Sorry about that comment, in class, that was uh– inappropriate,” he says with a blush.

God, Zayn could stare at his flushed face all day, but that’s not why he asked Harry to stay after class.

“Yes, it was,” Zayn says. “Do you talk to all your teachers like that?”

“Well, I don’t walk in all my teachers making out with each other, so,” Harry shrugs.

Zayn widens his eyes. Where did _that_ come from? “Excuse me?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Are we going to pretend that it didn’t happen?”

“Harry, um,” Zayn stammers. “This is not a conversation that I should be having with a student.”

“Right, true,” Harry nods. “Sorry.”

“It won’t happen again,” Zayn assures, looking away from Harry. This conversation was getting more and more uncomfortable for him, he shouldn’t have started it. He just wants it to end. Preferably now.

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Harry mumbles.

Zayn snaps his head in his student’s direction. “Excuse me, what?”

Harry meets Zayn’s eyes. “I said, that’s too bad.”

Zayn pauses for a second. He could take this in two different directions, he thinks. He could question Harry, press further, or he could be a professional, _not_ pedophilic teacher and end it all now. But apparently he likes the chances of a student pressing sexual charges against him, so he steps closer, places both hands on Harry’s desk and bends down.

 “Why would you say that?” Zayn asks, with a low voice.

Harry’s confident demeanor seems to crumble. “I mean, I guess I didn’t mind too much. It wasn’t, uh, like a big deal.”

“Yeah? That’s it?” Zayn cocks an eyebrow. _Stop it,_ he tells himself, but he can’t. He’s feeding that fucking ache he’s had for Harry, and now, there’s no going back. The shift in both of their behaviours was obvious.

Harry gulps. “Mm hm.”

“I could tell that you didn’t _mind too much._ That flushed face of yours gave it away,” Zayn smirks.

Harry turns red and bites his bottom lip. _God,_ Zayn thinks. _It’s like he’s begging to be fucked._

“Louis is quite attractive,” Zayn says, staring into Harry’s eyes, challenging him.

“Yeah,” he breathes, blushing even harder. “I can see why you two, uh, are together.”

Zayn laughs. “We’re not together. Just friends.”

“Oh,” Harry squeaks.

“Are we still on tomorrow for a study session? Lou won’t be there, no funny business, I promise,” Zayn winks.

“Um, sure,” Harry says, standing up and grabbing his bag. “Sound good.”

Zayn drops his eyes and takes a quick peak at Harry’s bulging jeans. He smirks. “Sounds very good. See you then, Harry.”

Harry walks quickly towards the door, sparing only a quick look over his shoulder before hurrying away.

Zayn waits until Harry is far gone before he exhales loudly. “Fuck.”

\---

“So that’s it? That’s all that happened?” Louis says incredulously. “There’s no reason to freak out. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I flirted with him, my _student,_ my _underage student,_ ” Zayn whines. “Why the fuck did I do that?”

“Because he’s fucking cute and wants you to bend him over and pound him like the bad little school boy that he is?” Louis says, giving Zayn a wicked grin.

Zayn glares back. “Fuck off. He’s a good kid.”

“Defending your blushing faunlet, are you?” Louis laughs. “It’s whatever dude. Crazier shit happens nowadays. I heard that a fourth grade teacher in our board was recently fired and locked up because he was running a Lolita blog. Now _that’s_ some fucked up shit.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about coming onto my seventeen year old student?” Zayn huffs.

Louis shrugs. “It’s up to you, man. This Harry kid seems safe, I don’t think he’s going to be running to his mama about his mean old teacher touching his privates.”

Zayn winces and Louis rolls his eyes before continuing. “What I mean is, he’s legal in like, twenty countries, and he’s probably consenting. Let him make the first move, if it bothers you that much. In a couple months, he won’t even be your student anymore, and he’ll be eighteen shortly after. And it won’t even matter then, what happens before.”

Zayn stares at his friend. Fuck, Louis makes good arguments. “How the hell can you manage to encourage me to fuck my underage student and make it seem like a perfectly fine thing to do?”

“I’m gifted in persuasion and manipulation, darling,” Louis winks. “You can thank me later.”

\---

Zayn shifts in anticipation at his desk the next day. He waits for Harry’s arrival, tapping on the table sporadically until the sound drives him crazy.  He had though a lot about what Louis had said to him and made a decision. He was going to take it slow with Harry. Find out exactly what he wants and take it from there.

“Sorry I’m late, sir,” Harry says out of breath as he glides into the classroom.

Zayn is momentarily frozen at the sudden appearance of his student but recovers quickly. “Er, it’s quite alright. Take a seat, here.”

Harry smiles and sits down. “Thanks. So I was looking over yesterday’s reading and–”

“Harry,” Zayn interrupts. He looks straight into his student’s eyes before continuing. “You’re a brilliant student. You’ve never gotten below an 80% in my class. And you expect me to believe that suddenly you’re slacking and not understanding the texts?”

Harry shifts his eyes, uncomfortable under Zayn’s gaze. “Well, I guess. What are you trying to say?”

Zayn pushes his chair beside Harry and places his hand on his knee.

Harry snaps his head up, glancing down at where Zayn’s touching him and then up at Zayn.

_Shit,_ Zayn thinks. Has he pushed it too far already? Zayn takes a breath before speaking.

“What are you really doing here, Harry?”

He is silent for a couple of terrifying seconds while Zayn’s heart pounds so loudly, he’s sure Harry can hear it.

“I’m here for you, sir,” he breathes.

Zayn freezes as he takes in Harry’s words. _For you, sir._

“What do you–what exactly do you mean by that?” Zayn tries to keep his voice steady.

Harry shyly smiles. “Well, you’re a really great teacher and you seem like a cool guy and I don’t know. I guess I want to be more than just a student with you. Maybe friends, or something.”

Zayn stares at him. Fuck, _fuck._ He totally read into this wrong. And _Louis,_ that fucking bastard, feeding him all those encouragements, making it seem okay and possible, and Zayn believing that it could be real, oh _fuck._

“That’s really nice, Harry, I’m quite flattered, but you know it’s not really professional for me to have friendships with students,” Zayn says flatly. He tries to keep his tone light, but his mind it full of _stupid stupid stupid_ and he can’t focus on anything else. “Plus, I’m disappointed in you for sabotaging your school work for something silly like this.”

Harry flinches and Zayn automatically feels guilty for being so harsh. His student must feel vulnerable, and Zayn’s just being an asshole because he feels rejected. And here he is talking about staying professional, when right now he’s being anything but.

“Sorry, sir,” Harry mumbles, ducking his head.

Zayn looks at him for a second and thinks, _fuck it._

“Hey, Harry, look at me,” he says, reaching out to tip Harry’s head up with his fingers. “I don’t think you’re silly, or any of that.”

Harry laughs, and pulls his face away from Zayn’s hand. “Oh god, save me the embarrassment. I know it’s dumb to have a crush on your completely unattainable _teacher,_ ” he mumbles.

Zayn pales. “What?”

He must have not heard right. Harry had just rejected him moments ago, hadn’t he? Had he not just stated that he wants to be _friends_ with Zayn?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I’m going to go now, I won’t bother you again,” Harry stands and grabs his bag, avoiding eye contact with Zayn.

Zayn just stared at him, unable to move. _Crush? On him? Harry has a crush on him?_

Harry was already at the door when Zayn finally blinked back to reality.

“Can we pretend that this just didn’t happen?” Harry pleads, with a pained expression.

Zayn stands up. “No,” he says as he strides towards his student.

“No?” Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean by n–”

Zayn backs him up against the door, pressing a hand hard against the wood beside Harry’s head. “I mean, you don’t get to tell me that you have a _school boy crush_ on me and then tell me to forget it never happened.”

Harry whimpers and bites his lip. “Why– why not?”

“Because,” Zayn growls, pushing himself further into Harry’s space until their chests are almost touching. “That’s all the affirmation I need to do this.”

“Yeah, yeah, touch me, Mr. Malik,” Harry murmurs, reaching out towards Zayn.

Zayn shivers at the words but takes a minuscule step back. “Harry, I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t want this?” Harry pouts.

It takes all of Zayn’s self-control to not push the boy against the door again and show him exactly what he wants.

“Fuck, Harry, I do. But legally, I can’t,” Zayn frowns.

“I won’t tell,” Harry says in a low voice, smirking at Zayn. “It’ll be our secret.”

“I can’t do that to you,” Zayn argues, as his hands twitch with _want want want._

“I _want_ you to,” Harry whines, and steps closer to Zayn.

Zayn breathes deeply as Harry reaches up and roams his hands across Zayn’s chest. Zayn feels like he’s frozen in place when Harry hooks his arms around his neck and pulls him closer until their chests are touching.

“Harry,” he whispers.

Harry chuckles lowly. “Where did all the confidence go?”

Zayn smirks. _Harry wants to see confidence?_ Zayn pushes his student up against the door again.

“Yeah, like that,” Harry pants. He juts out his hips towards Zayn and–

_Oh._ Harry is hard and big and his length pressing against Zayn’s is an amazing feeling–

Zayn presses back, grinding until Harry moans loudly from the friction.

“Shh,” Zayn growls into his ear. “Normally I like vocal ones but we’re in a school.”

Harry nods and bites his lip.

He grabs the boy’s hips and lines them up with his again, the drag of their lengths through the denim of their jeans making him shiver.

Harry whimpers and his hips stutter against Zayn’s. Against his better judgement, he leans down to press his lips on Harry’s, wanting to finally taste that mouth that has been teasing him all semester–

Harry’s phone rings.

Zayn freezes but Harry keeps grinding into him as if he hadn’t heard his phone at all.

“Ha–Harry,” Zayn mummers. “You should answer that.”

“Or I could just keep doing this,” Harry says, enunciating his words with slow grinds.

Zayn feels impossibly harder but he manages to pull away. “Answer it, Harry.”

Harry groans and takes his phone out from his back pocket. “Hello?”

Zayn can’t help but glance down at Harry, at the giant bulge through his jeans, his flushed face and messy hair–

“Yeah, mum, I just had an after school thing,” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes. “Okay, bye.”

Harry sheepishly looks up at Zayn with a shy smile. “Uh, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn says, but his thoughts are flying a mile a minute now. _His mum, for fucks sake, his mum is calling to see where he is and he’s_ here _with his fucking teacher, doing_ this _with his teacher oh my god I’m his teacher and he’s only a teenager, what the fuck am I doing, why did I think this was okay_ –

“Sir?” Harry asks with a confused face.  “Um, is everything alright?”

Zayn cringes at the word _sir_ and a pang of guilt sweeps his through his body. “No. Everything is– fuck.”

Harry’s expression goes from confused to worried as he shifts from one foot to another.

“I think you should leave, Harry,” Zayn says, avoiding his student’s eyes.

Harry now has a hurt look on his face and Zayn wishes he could just take back the last ten minutes of his life. “But, I mean I thought we were–”

Zayn sighs. “We can’t. You’re only a kid. I’m sorry.”

Harry chuckles without a trace of humour in his voice. “Right. Of course. I’ll just be going then.”

Zayn stays silent as Harry grabs his bag and heads towards the door. “Wait, Harry,” he calls just as he’s about to slip out.

Harry turns around with a blank expression.

Zayn bites his lip worriedly. “You’re not going to– I mean, no one can know–”

Harry purses his lips. “Yeah, don’t sorry, _sir._ I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Zayn nods and debates whether or not to say thanks but before he can speak, Harry is already out the door.

_\---_

“It’s your fucking fault,” Zayn narrows his eyes and growls at Louis when he walks through the door of his apartment.

Louis looks up from the TV. “What?”

“He’s fucking seventeen, his mom still calls him to see where he is and he’s my fucking _student!”_ Zayn shouts.

“Whoa, calm down. Are you talking about Harry?”

Zayn snorts. “No, I’m talking about my _other_ student that you encouraged me to fuck.”

Louis points a finger at Zayn. “Don’t make this my fault, Malik. Just because I say something, it doesn’t mean you have to listen.”

“Fuck, I know,” Zayn sighs and flops into the couch beside Louis. “It’s just, I can’t believe I put myself into this situation. He said he wouldn’t tell anyone but–”

“Then he won’t tell anyone about whatever happened,” Louis interrupts.

“You don’t know that,” Zayn argues, dropping his head into his hands.

“Hey, hey,” Louis puts an arm around his friend. “It’s gonna be okay. Stop freaking out.”

“We’ll see,” Zayn mutters, dreading tomorrow and having to face Harry.

\---

Zayn was sat at his desk preparing for his classes when Harry walked in.

“Um, Mr. Malik?” Harry says, standing uncomfortably by the door. “Can I come in?”

Zayn looked up with a surprised expression but managed to nod. “Yeah, sure.”

Harry shuts the door behind him and takes a seat in front of Zayn’s desk. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

Zayn blinks. He didn’t expect Harry to be so upfront about it. “Um, what do you want to talk about?”

“I understand what you mean, about me being your student. I know something like this can get you in a lot of trouble. I just want you to know that I won’t ever say anything to anyone about what happened because I don’t want you to get fired and go to jail or something,” Harry says in one breath, like he had rehearsed it.

Zayn stared at Harry, speechless. “Wow, well, I appreciate that, Harry,” he says when he manages to speak again. “But I don’t want you to feel obliged to do so, or that I’m, er, _forcing_ you, or anything like that,” he rambles.

Harry rolls his eyes. “You didn’t molest me, sir.”

Zayn cringes and looks away. “Right. Okay. As long as everything is good here, between us.”

“Yeah, everything is good,” Harry assures. He lowers his voice when the rest of the class starts coming in. “And I hope you know when the time is right, I’d like to pick up where we left off.”

\---

_Months later._

Zayn thought it would be any day now. It was a couple weeks into summer vacation, weeks after seeing his students graduate and go off into the world, hopefully bringing pieces of knowledge from him with them.

It wasn’t like Zayn was waiting, or anything. Just being observant. Noticing.

He settled into his couch, and fell asleep to the image of green eyes and chocolate curls.

\---

Zayn woke up to three quick raps on his door. His eyes opened slowly and he grunted with annoyance.

“Go away,” he mumbled, snuggling further into his sheet.

The person knocked again, louder.

“Fuck,” Zayn rose from bed with a scowl. “Yeah, coming!”

He walked to the door, annoyance still written all over his face, and swung it open.

His glare faded when his dark eyes met jade, red bitten lips pulled into a smile.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” a deep voice laughed. “Can I come in?”  

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to quickly thank you all for reading! Leave me some comments and let me know what I could have done better  
> Also a quick thing, I understand that Louis persuading Zayn to go for Harry was a horrible thing to do. I don’t approve of any of that, nor do I think it is okay at all for an adult to pursue a romantic and/or sexual relationship with any underage child, never mind the age or supposed consent. This is FICTION. All in the name of good prompts and pining and sexual frustration.  
> I would love to make a sequel if people want it!
> 
> FIND ME AT:   
> boybanderzayn.tumblr.com  
> twitter.com/playboyzayn


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